


The Birds of the Night

by oninofukuchou (OrderOfRevan)



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: A Metric Fuckton of Erotica, Alternate Universe, Courtesan AU, F/M, Multi, Self-Indulgent, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 02:17:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrderOfRevan/pseuds/oninofukuchou
Summary: Yukimura Chizuru runs away from a father who has used her in her medical experiments and seeks refuge with a group of men employed at a birdcage called "Sakurabana" in the Red Light District with the recommendation of family friend, Doctor Matsumoto.In the aftermath, she must struggle to find her place in a world populated by men with painted faces who are never quite what they seem. Men who will teach her more about herself and her place in the world than she ever thought possible.





	The Birds of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that this story is completely self-indulgent and written just so I could have an excuse to write some erotica for these characters, as well as a sort of character study.
> 
> I love Hakuoki and I take it more seriously than I probably should, but this story is a good chance for me to relax and blow off some steam. I hope you enjoy it, too.

The sky was dark but smattered with a million stars, the bright and twinkling lights reminding her of a painting from the West she’d once seen. They were somewhat obscured by the glow of the flames flickering within the red paper lanterns evenly spaced on either side of the wide road she wandered down, but they were beautiful just the same. 

It was busy here, a press of people in all sorts of fashions from all parts of the world making conversation so loudly that it nearly swallowed the sounds of the chiming bells as people wandered in and out of shops. The smells of various foods drifted about her, tempting her sorely, though she knew she likely couldn’t afford to stop and eat a meal until she found her destination, though it had been quite some time since she’d anything more than the dried goods she’d smuggled out of her childhood home. Beneath her feet the cobbles were smooth, and each building she passed had bright fabric hanging in the windows, making the entire place look more exotic than any of the grim brown and black buildings of her home village. 

The entire district was like a carnival, men and women dressed in kimono that made them look like birds of paradise perched in second story windows or weaving through the crowd. It didn’t seem to matter who they were, male or female alike wore their faces painted, glittering hair ornaments reflecting light from the lanterns somehow making them more more enchanting than even the heavens. 

Never in her life had she ever been in such a place, and she certain she never would have come if she were not looking for a specific ‘birdhouse’, a refuge recommended to her by the only man in the world she felt she could trust. There were men there, he’d said as he wrote down the address hastily and given her enough money to help her travel, men who could help her, good men that he himself trusted with his life. 

It was here, on main street, tucked away behind two massive cherry trees in the small garden just outside. They were the most ostentatious thing about the place, she thought, even the heavy sheets in the window a demure and understated shade of blue compared to the bright colors elsewhere. 

And yet from inside she could hear the sounds of strings being plucked and the din of soft conversation, the overwhelming smell of incense wafting from the windows, a soft glow just visible from underneath the fabric. 

Through the bare and skeletal  branches she could see the bright characters painted in red across the top of the door, large enough to see from across the street --  _ Sakurabana _ . 

It was almost certainly the place, yet now that she was here she found her legs frozen, staring up at the characters. She knew that this place was a Red Light district, had heard rumors and whispers of what happened just beyond those doors, but still found herself in equal parts enchanted and intimidated by the prospect of asking them for help. Doctor Matsumoto had directed her to his friend Kondo Isami, the owner and proprietor of this establishment, had even given her a letter of introduction, and yet… 

She was a girl.

Could she really live here? 

Would they accept her?

What if they turned her away? 

“Eh?” came a voice from above, her eyes snapping towards the sight of a man draped in a beautiful red and green kimono leaning across the balcony railing of a second floor room. “What’s this? Has a little flower lost her way? Is she in need of plucking?” 

His bright green eyes glinted at her from the darkness like two emeralds, sandy hair falling into his face, tickling the tops of his cheekbones. They held her in place as his full lips split into a slow, lazy grin and he propped his head up on his elbow, tilting his head as he continued to stare down at her. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” he asked. “Geez, you’re a bit dense, aren’t you? Or are you really lost?” 

“I--” she began, swallowing back her nervousness as she tore her eyes away, feeling somehow like he could see right through her skin. “I’m here looking for a Kondo Isami-san --”

“Looking for Kondo-san?” The smooth voice said, brightening, still filled with notes of amusement. “Don’t you know that you can’t buy him?” 

Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she turned her gaze towards him again, eyes wide, vehemently shaking her head. She… She didn’t want to buy anyone! She wasn’t here for that! She wanted to explain, but the words were caught in her throat at the sight of the man’s grin widening even further before he broke out into a long, barking laugh. 

Behind him, the curtains hung in the balcony door stirred and another beautiful man dressed head to toe in elegant black stepped out into the open. He was far more mysterious looking than the other, his hair the same shade of blue as the inky night, his skin pale, and his eyes an unusually piercing and deep shade of blue that reminded her of the winter sky. 

“Souji,” he said, his voice soft, “it is not your place to harass potential customers.” 

“But Hajime-kun!” the first man protested loudly, his bottom lip jutting out into a childish pout. “She’s looking to purchase Kondo-san!”

“I--” she tried again, her voice getting lost in the withering glare this Hajime gave the man named Souji and the continued sounds of Souji’s laughter. 

Shaking her head, she took a step forward and tried to get their attention only to have the words stolen from her throat when the front door of the birdhouse opened and spilled light onto the sleepy garden path. 

Swiftly turning her head, she stared into the eyes of the most beautiful man she had ever seen, standing on the top step and leaning against the door frame, the light caught on the reflective surface of the fine, vibrant silks of his haori and kimono. Pale, with shockingly sharp and discerning, his hair was a true black that spilled like a dark waterfall over his shoulders and framed his face. He stood with poise and confidence, long fingers tapping out a rhythm against his thigh, the tilt of his head as he looked down at her not quite arrogant but imposing nonetheless. There was something truly captivating about him, from the way he held himself to the fire of pride burning in his deep violet eyes, stepping carefully onto the stone path and walking towards her. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, something in his low, rich voice coaxing her words back to her throat. 

“I… I received a letter of introduction from Dr. Matsumoto for a Kondo Isami-san,” she said, bowing deeply before him. “P-please… I… I need assistance.” 

He stepped forward as she straightened, holding his hand out for the letter, and, with trembling fingers, she gave it to him. All she could do as watch as he ripped the envelope open with his teeth and pulled the fold sheets of parchment out, smoothing them over with his elegant fingers before his eyes began to scan the page. 

“Dr. Matsumoto, huh?” said the cheerful man on the balcony. “It’s been a long time since he’s come around to perform physicals.” She heard him sigh, and looked up at the sound of creaking, watching him shift his back towards the railing, leaning against it to stare up at the tiled roof. “What’s he thinking, sending you to a bunch of birds of prey like us?” 

“B-birds of--” she gasped. 

“Please don’t allow him to get to you,” said the second man, his arms still crossed delicately over his chest. “Souji simply enjoys laughing at the expense of others.” 

As they spoke, the man with the black hair seemed to finish reading the letter and then reached out, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging her closer. She felt her entire body lock in place again, stunned by his shockingly sweet scent and the feeling of his body heat this close, as well as the size and firmness of his strong hands. 

“Oi -- Souji, Saito, close the doors and getting your asses into the parlor,” he commanded, his sharp gaze turning towards the other two men for the briefest of moments before he paused, blowing out the red lanterns on either side of the door. “And round up the others -- This is important.” 

She whimpered as he pulled her along, releasing her only when he had dragged her inside and slammed the door behind them so hard that she could have sworn her bones vibrated. Stunned, she watched in silence as he slipped off the sandals he was wearing, his eyes flickering up to meet the gaze of a very serious looking man with wide, grey eyes and brownish-red hair dressed in relatively simple clothing. 

“Hijikata-sama, what--” he began only to be cut off. 

“Is Kondo-san around?” the one named Hijikata asked as he straightened, reminding her to slip off her own sandals as quickly as she could manage. 

“I… Yes. Do you want me to…?” She watched the younger man trail off, his brows furrowing over his eyes so deeply that she could see a divot form between them. 

“Get him,” Hijikata said, “and then meet us in the parlor.” 

The young man bowed and then began to run off only to be stopped by the sound of Hijikata’s voice, firm and loud. 

“Make sure you tell Sanan-san I’ve closed the place up for now,” he said before glancing over his shoulder to look at her, though she was momentarily distracted by the sound of retreating footsteps. “You’re fucking lucky that we just opened up, kid, or else there’d still be customers here.”

“I… I’m sorry,” she said, managing another bow. “I… I don’t mean to impose, but--”

His hand reached out, two fingers pressing against her lips, and he shook his head. 

She felt her cheeks burn, his eyes locking with hers, face especially calm and composed. Never before had she seen any man so in control of himself, and she wondered if it was because of the nature of his job, if…. If somehow, being a gentleman of the night meant that he was more aware of his body than others, or if that were simply some aspect of his personality unique to him. 

“I read the note,” he said firmly, waving it like a paper fan with his opposite hand. “Breathe, Yukimura.” 

“Oh--” She stuttered, bowing her head again. “Okay, Hijikata… Um… Hijikata-san.” 

He nodded and pulled his fingers away, motioning for her to follow him. 

She felt like a newborn foal, stumbling after him, while he strode gracefully as if he’d been born with poise. Together, they walked down a small hallway into a well-decorated kind of parlor, tatami mats under foot with plenty of space to lounge about and preform. It was clearly capable of being closed off so that guests could be entertained privately, but right now all the doors had been slid open and men were filtering in. 

They came in pairs or groups, never really alone, all of them colorful and breathtaking in their own ways. Their eyes were bright like gemstones, adorned in fine cloth, metal glittering from their fingers, their necks, their wrists, their ears, and tucked amongst the strands of their hair. As she watched them sit down, recline amongst pillows, she realized that the scent of incense was coming from the  _ men _ , not from anything in the room itself. 

Noise filled the room, snatches of conversation drifting around her, and she had to admit that after spending so much time in spaces dominated by women this felt… Odd. It wasn’t bad, really, kind of comforting in a weird way, with their deep voices setting a tone that she somehow found calming, but… 

It was the first time she’d ever been so close to so many men at a single time. 

Next to her, Hijikata clapped loudly as a modestly dressed man with spectacles stepped up beside him. And just like that, every single pair of the eyes in the room were drawn in her direction, all of them glued to her… Very obviously a woman in a room full of men. 

Their expressions all varied, some surprised, others confused, still others annoyed, but they remained completely silent. 

“This... “ Hijikata said in a firm voice as he handed her letter to the bespectacled man, “is Yukimura Chizuru. She’s the daughter of a man we all know and hate, but she was sent here on Doctor Matsumoto’s recommendation. Apparently, good old Kodo’s been up to some shit and isn’t above subjecting his own daughter to it, and we’re the most discreet and competent people the Doctor could think of.” 

The words made her heart beat, and she swallowed thickly, wondering why he was just announcing it the entire room when she hadn’t even spoken to the man Doctor Matsumoto had asked her to find. It was like he was in charge here even though she didn’t really think that was true, but everyone, even the arrogant looking blonde man glaring at him from across the room, seemed content to listen to what he had to say. 

Well,  _ almost  _ everyone. 

“ _ We _ are?” the green-eyed man from the balcony asked, whistling as he leaned forward from his position on the arm of one of his couches. “Wow, she must really be up shit creek without a --”

“Souji,” Hijikata barked, “that’s enough. She’s in a tough situation as it is without you making it worse by flapping your stupid mouth.” 

“In truth,” the man with the spectacles said, glancing up from his reading, “Doctor Matsumoto is likely not wrong in sending her to us. Who knows better how to be discreet than the gentleman of the night, after all?” 

There was a loud noise as a man stumbled into the room, his face as broad as his smile, though he was much more average looking than even the plainly dressed and thin faced bespectacled man. He blinked rapidly as he stared at her, then shifted towards Hijikata at her side, who placed a hand in the middle of her back and nudged her forward. She watched as he ran a hand through his neat, black hair, dark eyes holding Hijikata’s for a moment before he straightened and his face grew serious. 

“This is Kondo Isami,” Hijikata told her, “the owner of the  _ Sakurabana  _ Pleasure House… And your new employer.” 

“Em--” she stuttered. “Em… Ployer?” 

“Please, relax,” Kondo said as he took a step forward, holding his hands up in front of him. “This Pleasure House doesn’t employ women in that capacity. I would never, ever ask you to give up your body if it weren’t something you were comfortable with, even if you were a man.” 

She felt her face grow even hotter, the man with the green eyes coughing to siffle a laugh behind his hand. A few of the others were smiling as well, very broadly, a red haired man leaning against the shoulder of a tall man with dark hair shaking his head in quiet amusement. 

“So what,” he drawled, in a soft, low voice, “is she going to be our errand girl?” 

“We could,” the bespectacled man said. “After all, there is a great deal of laundry to be done.” 

There was a general chorus of laughter, and she felt ready to sink into the floor. 

“But perhaps, first we should see to introductions,” he continued as he turned towards her with a sweeping bow. “I am Sanan Keisuke, the manager of this establishment. The rather shady gentleman standing just at the doors are our security guards, Amagiri Kyujin and Shiranui Kyo.” 

Chizuru blinked, realizing that she hadn’t noticed either of them men, either the hulking, massive red-haired giant, or his slender, long-haired navy blue haired man smirking at his side. They both nodded towards her in acknowledgement, but otherwise said nothing, and she thought that that they must be very good bodyguards indeed if their small nods alone could be intimidating. 

“I’m Harada Sanosuke,” the red haired man said, offering her a small wave, “and this idiot is Nagakura Shinpachi.” 

He lighting punched the taller, dark haired man in the shoulder, drawing a toothy and friendly grin out of him that set her at ease. Harada’s yellow eyes sparkled as he motioned towards the narrow shouldered young man beside him, his eyes somehow even more green than the other man’s. 

“And this little shit is Toudo Heisuke, my apprentice.”

“Oi, Sano!” Toudo griped through the broad, toothy grin on his face. “I won’t be an apprentice for much longer so stop treating me like a kid!”

“The moment you get your first real client, I’ll do just that,” Harada said with a laugh as he leaned forward and winked at Chizuru. “Don’t worry about him. He’s all bark and no bite… Unless you want him to.” 

The words sent a shock through her and her eyes fell towards the ground, the situation somehow made all the worse by the stare Hijikata was giving her, his eyes burning holes into the back of her neck. 

“I’m Okita Souji,” the green eyed man said with a flourishing bow, straightening and reaching up to rustle his dark brown hair, “and I hope you’re okay with all the bedsheets you’re going to have to wash and all the floors you’ll have to scrub.” 

She opened her mouth to retort only to be beaten to it by the other man from the balcony, who bowed to her before speaking. “I am Saito Hajime. Please pay Souji no mind. He’s only mocking you for his own amusement.” 

For a few moments her mouth opened and closed before she returned their bows, trying to remember to be polite. These men were going to shelter her, and even if… Even if she had to do their laundry and perform chores around the house, well… She had done that for her father, regardless. Nothing would really change here, but she would be safer, safe without the fear of confronting the horrible things her father had promised her. 

Things she still couldn’t believe he was capable of. 

Pushing the thoughts from her mind as best as she could, she forced herself to speak. “Thank you…. Thank you for your hospitality.” 

“Breathe,” Hijikata’s voice said from beside her, causing her head to turn towards him. “You’ll be fine, Yukimura.”

The absolute confidence with which he spoke and the steel in his violet eyes calmed her nerves just slightly. Nodding, she dropped her gaze from Hijikata’s face and worried her lip between her teeth, her eyes darting towards the faces as she watched the regal looking man with the arrogant red eyes stand. 

“I am Kazama Chikage,” he said, barely deigning to look at her, “and you will respect my station as one of the top earners for this establishment accordingly. Hopefully, you have a better understanding of business sense than these louts.” 

With that, he strode from the room, disappearing into one of the dark hallways that the men had appeared from only moments before, though now it felt like centuries since she’d come here. 

“Well, that went as reasonably well as any of us could have hoped,” Sanan said, clapping his hands together. “I believe there are a few more introductions to make, but that can wait until later. You must be most tired, Yukimura-chan.” 

“I…” she breathed, bidden back to the present moment by the sound of his soft and reasonable voice. “Y-yes.” 

“Though it’s our custom to sleep during the day, we’ll afford you a room for the night and then resume business as usual. Tomorrow, you will begin your training,” he said as he pushed his spectacles back up the bridge of his narrow nose, smiling at her in a way that seemed somehow menacing in the lantern light. “I hope, Yukimura-chan, that you are prepared. Life at the Sakurabana is not easy, but I daresay it is always interesting.”

Those words alone were both her last hope and her greatest fear. 

 

***

 

She was woken by the young man with the grey-green eyes who had gone to fetch Kondo the night before. It appeared to be late afternoon from the way that the bright light was filtering through the sheer curtains, and she woke stiff and a bit hungry, but shockingly well rested from a night sleeping on a comfortable futon. 

“Breakfast is being served in one of the parlors,” the young man said to her, holding a bundle of cloth to his chest as he bowed his head to the tatami mat. “Hijikata-sama has asked if you’d like to dine with us.” 

“Why do you call him that?” she asked, taking the clothing from his hands gingerly, watching him blink in quiet confusion. 

“He… He’s my teacher and master,” he said quietly. “I’m truly privileged to be studying underneath a man such as him.”

“So you’re…” she prompted, watching as a bright blush spread across his cheeks. 

It was with an innocence that she didn’t really expect from someone who worked… Here, But he looked earnest with the way his brows were furrowed over his eyes, and she wondered if he was really much older than she was. Drawing her legs towards her chest, she reached out and hesitantly placed a hand on his arm, feeling heat spread across her own cheeks. 

“Not yet, Yukimura-san,” he managed, “but I will be, once Hijikata-sama thinks I’m ready to start taking on clients. Then I’ll enter my apprenticeship.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she said, trying to sound reassuring, clearing her throat. “Oh. Um… I don’t know…”

“Souma Kazue,” he said with a nod, quickly withdrawing and standing up. “I’ll leave you to get changed, Yukimura-san.”

He bowed, face still bright red, and slipped form the room. 

Sitting for a moment longer, she turned towards the clothing in her hands and swallowed thickly. Quickly swallowing, she moved as quickly as she could to change into the kimono… Plain, but still nice, clearly the kind of outfit someone on the staff would be wearing. She remembered the way the two guards and Sanan-san were dressed, and quickly slipped into the kimono. She had no way to put on cosmetics here, so she kept her face plain, a bit relieved that they’d already seen her dressed plainly. 

She could never expect to be as beautiful as any of them, something that should have shamed her as a woman. 

Swallowing, she quietly stepped outside, greeted by Souma, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked nervous, but managed a small smile and a stiff bow when she exited into the hall before reaching past her to close the sliding doors behind her. 

“It’s common practice to close doors to rooms that you don’t wish to be in use here,” he explained. “It’s nowhere close to operating hours, but … I think it’s good to get into the habit anyway.” 

He said nothing else, leading her to a different parlor than the one she’d entered the day before. It was smaller and more sparsely furnished, occupied by only Hijikata, Okita, and Saito, to her relief. Right now she was still so overwhelmed and she wasn’t really sure she could deal with the entire group of men at the moment. 

Especially because this was the last thing she had ever expected to happen to her. 

“I’ve brought Yukimura-san,” Souma announced, bowing to the men in attendance before stepping back into the hallway and closing the door behind him. 

Swallowing, she took a step forward, noticing for the first time that the three men were dressed much less extravagantly than the night before… And that Okita himself was wearing nothing more than a juban. The sight made her face feel hot again as she sat down, bowing to each of them in greeting as she looked down at the bow of rice to avoid meeting any of their eyes. 

“It’s Yukimura-chan,” Okita said cheerfully, leaning towards her from where he sat at her side, pouring her some tea. “Good morning.”

He paused, grinning practically from ear to ear as he stared at her. “You’re a bit flushed, Yukimura-chan,” he reached out a hand and pressed it against her forehead. “Are you getting sick?” 

“N-no,” she managed, not sure how to object to his state of dress without sounding prudish. 

These men… 

They sold their bodies for a living. 

She had already known that, but she wasn’t really sure she’d realized exactly what that meant until just this moment. Seeing them dressed down in nothing more than their undergarments, or only a little more than that, lounging around so casually… They were nothing like normal people, who followed normal rules and behavioral conventions. 

And they were so okay with touching, she thought, her face growing even more heated.

First, Hijikata had touched her lips and her back, and now… 

“Eh?” Okita asked with a laugh. “Are you shy, Yukimura-chan? But I thought you were a doctor’s daughter. Aren’t you used to this sort of thing?”

Her eyes went wide as she stared at him in open shock, her mouth hanging shamefully open, though the sound of Hijikata’s sharp voice grounding her to reality. 

“Oi, Souji,” he growled, “shut it.” 

“Did you sleep well?” Saito asked, his blue eyes trained on her exclusively as he raised the rim of his cup to his lips and took a small sip of his morning tea. 

“Y-yes,” she said, nodding emphatically. “Thank you, Saito-san.” 

His only response was a small nod and a ghost of a smile, though she took some relief in his more formal posture and relatively appropriate state of dress. He was reserved, but his manner put her at ease because he was normal compared to the situation, though she didn’t think she’d feel that way if she’d met him somewhere else. 

“Good,” Hijikata said, his voice as commanding as it had been the night before. “So, Yukimura -- Just how much experience do you have with this kind of thing?”

“You mean…” She hesitated, only for the silence to give Okita a chance to cut her off. 

“A brothel?” he asked with a laugh. “Hijikata-san is asking if you’ve ever made use of the services of a prostitute.” 

Her face turned bright red and she looked down to her hands, which hadn’t even touched her chopsticks yet, shaking her head. She had only just become an adult a few months ago, and it wasn’t really considered acceptable for women to make use of these kinds of services in the first place. Of course, they did anyway, especially in a big city like this, but… 

“That’s what I thought,” Hijikata said firmly. “You look a bit too young to have needed men like us quite yet.” He breathed out a soft sigh, leaning back to stare at her for a long moment, perhaps to get a better look at her in the daylight. “That means you don’t really know how this sort of shit works, so it sounds like I was right to call you here and try to fill you in.” 

“Indeed,” Saito muttered, carefully picking up his bowl, which he cupped in a single hand. “If you’re going to share our residence, you should know our ways.” 

She swallowed and nodded, reaching out for her egg, running her thumbs over its surface before taking a breath cracking it against the side of her bowl. “What do you think I need to know, Hijikata-san?” 

“The most important thing to remember is this,” he said, holding up a slender finger, “if a door is closed during open hours, you stay the hell away. If it’s closed during off hours, you better fucking knock or you’re going to see things you don’t want to see… Or aren’t prepared to.” 

“Y-you mean---”

“Our naked, sweaty, glistening bodies?” Okita asked.

The fire spread to her ears. 

“Souji,” Hijkata growled again, more firmly this time, though it did nothing to stop the laughter that bubbled from Okita’s chest. “Point is, kid, knocking is important, both for the bedrooms and the bathroom. You should also get used to the idea of seeing half clothed men,” his eyes flickered towards Okita, though his own kimono hung half off his shoulders, showing the white of the juban underneath. “I noticed you had a bit of a problem with that.” 

“I-it’s just--”

“You are a modest girl,” Saito said quietly. “There is nothing wrong with that, but there is little place for modesty in our line of work. You would do well to acquaint yourself with this idea.” 

Swallowing thickly, she nodded, furiously stirring the egg into her rice just for something to do -- to focus on. 

They were right.

Of course they were right. 

This was really her absolute last chance at ever living independent of her father or the things that he wanted for her. These men didn’t have to take her in, didn’t have to provide her with clothing or food, but they were anyway. All she had to do in return were chores, and though she was certain there were things he didn’t know about this kind of business yet, they really must be kind if they were even considering assisting her. 

But she was… 

“This isn’t a business for the innocent,” Hijikata said, though his voice was shockingly gentle as he spoke to her, “but we provide a valuable service. There are plenty of people stuck in bad situations who need the dream that we sell here. I think any of the guys would tell you that half of what we do is just listen to the problems of our customers, and if you went to a flower garden, they’d probably tell you the same. A lot of these people don’t have anyone else to go to, and if you can respect that you’ll get along here just fine, even if you have a hard time with the physical aspect of it.” 

Gentleman and Ladies of the night… helped people?

Chizuru had never really considered that before, but looking into Hijikata’s earnest and stern expression, she had no doubt that he believed what he was saying. All her life she’d been told pleasure houses were places of debauchery where people went to live out their dirtiest and most secret fantasies, things that she had never really considered, even when she would think about what it might be like to feel the touch of a man. 

The men and women who worked in these places were people who had given up their dignity to sell the most intimate parts for themselves for money and deserved either derision or pity, depending on who you asked. And yet it was expected that everyone, especially young men, should visit a flower garden or birdcage some time in their life. In truth, it was something like a rite of passage, and one that she didn’t fully understand. 

It was looked at as both a natural part of life, somehow, and as something that people didn’t discuss in polite company. 

And here she was, living among them, being sheltered by them. 

The people that seemed the least likely in the world to want to protect a stranger. 

“Thank you,” she managed after another quiet moment. “You’re being very kind to me. I… I have nowhere in the world left to go, and…”

“Relax,” Okita said, reaching out to place a hand atop her head and gently ruffle her hair. “We’re going to make sure to work you to the bone to make up for it, so it’s not like it’s for free.” 

“He means that you will perform valuable services,” said Saito, setting his bowl and chopsticks down in front of him. “This sort of business is quite expensive to run. Having someone to help us with the chores will allow us to take more clients and increase our standard of living.”

“True enough,” Hijikata grunted in response. “And it’s not like doing laundry or making tea requires much training, though I bet Sanan has other shit he wants you to be able to do. That being said, I think the most important thing for you will be to get on our good side and stay there.” 

The hand on her head slowly moved to cup her face, large and warm, as Okita moved closer to her, so close she could feel the heat of his breath and see the flecks of dark brown in his large, green eyes. His lips curled up into a lazy half smile, full of mischief, and he brushed his thumb idly over her lips before speaking. 

“Being a cute girl won’t keep you in our good graces forever,” he said, then drew away with a laugh. 

There was a sound as a chopstick flew through the air past her head and hit Okita in the shoulder before clattering to the floor. She was so mortified, so embarrassed, that it took her a moment before she realized that Hijikata had thrown it and was currently rising from his seated position to pick it back up. 

All she could do was stare as he moved with the same concentrated grace he had last night, pushing an Okita howling with laughter over by nudging him with his foot. 

“Next time you pull this shit, I’ll aim lower,” he said in a low voice, passing her a second time to sit back down in front of his food, exhaling heavily as he brushed strands of dark hair out of his eyes. 

The flickered back towards her, the intensity not leaving them for a moment, though his frown lessened in intensity. “I’ll have you shadow Souma during chores,” he said. “He’ll help you figure out the layout of this place, but I think the best thing you can do for yourself is take breakfast and lunch with the guys and just… get to know the business. The sooner you do that, the sooner you stop flinching every time someone touches you.”

Hijikata sighed long and hard as the last of Okita’s laughter faded and he righted himself, and as she stared at him, lips tight, her hands trembling, she realized that she really was about to enter a different world. Whatever she had learned, whatever she had been born into, it was going to be essentially useless when dealing with men who lived their lives like painted birds displaying for every woman who arrived at their doorstep in the hopes of bleeding color back into their lives. 


End file.
